Why Ryou Bakura Should Have A Private Tutor
by The Evil Laugh
Summary: School is not a good place for Ryou Bakura on the first day. This is the longest chapteres day ever for him. R+R ...What? How did you know Ego helped with this?
1. Default Chapter

I'm posting this in my penname. I finally got internet.  
  
The Evil Laugh does not own Yu-Gi-Oh  
  
  
  
^^^^And now...the fic, in Bakura's POV, begins^^^^  
  
  
  
Big wheels.like donuts. Ha, donuts supporting a twinkie! Looks like something for a fatty dessert. To bad someone can't just eat the thing and get it done with. Of course, they might be driven away by the smell of petroleum leaking from the engine.  
  
  
  
I walk up to the frighteningly yellow bus. No biggie, right? Well, now I must to board the rectangular object slightly resembling a certain Hostess food cake I loath for it's waxy after flavor. Still, not sweat, step up about three stairs and I'm set, eh? Heh, not hardly.  
  
  
  
Okay, I hate buses and will not hide this fact. They smell bad and are way too slow. It's like a cage you could never escape. They suffocate you. Especially when you have to sit by other people. I'm not a social person. Loners like their space I suppose. I know I do.  
  
  
  
I will hate these buses forever, I suppose. Think of it this way: Drop a cat into water. What does it do? Try to get out the quickest way it possibly can. Even if that happens to bet up a certain person's unprotected arm and face. So, not a violent at the feline, I am almost willing to try anything to NOT have to ride the school's bus. I mean, kids are packed into there like a whole lot a' bloody sardines. There's this inhumane amount of three to a seat made for two or less! Sadly, I'm in one of these. My form practically conforms to the window's hard metal edges. It's because the girl next to me is, no offense [though it's true], HUGE. Seriously; like she'd cover an entire park bench. The one seat alone can't hold her, and I'm expected to just suck it in when she complains about space. Err; she could use some sucking in herself.  
  
  
  
Maybe even worst, the one next to her is one snappy little twit. She never stops questioning people. Plus, if you try your damn best to ignore her she'll start insulting you like you were never meant to exist and she has to make you [and everyone else] aware of the fact. If you cave and just begin to answer her degrading never-ending inquisitions, she insults your response. I mean, there is no escaping her sharp gossip trained tongue. She knows [by the popular; story from a girlfriend standard] what's in, what's out, what's queer, what's perverted, and what makes a person better than you [which, by the way, is nothing].  
  
  
  
Between the two, I can't decide whom I get along better with. I'll just try to not to know either. Then I won't have to really choose. One could knock me out with a flick of her finger; the other could stamp any reputation and moral achievement I might gain to the ground. Come on, I have an hour on the tin can of a bus; really, I don't deserve this. I DO NOT deserve this.  
  
  
  
^^^^And now...the chapter, Bakura's POV, ends^^^^  
  
  
  
Hehe, is this funny? I didn't know so.  
  
  
  
There is more than one chapter, but, alas, I'm lazy and don't feel like editing them. HA!   
  



	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. Wow, go figure.  
  
  
  
  
^^^^The chapter in Bakura's POV…starts^^^  
  
  
  
Okay, to say the school is gigantic is such an ironic understatement. You would think you'd found 'the' word to describe the place. I mean, what IS bigger than something that's gigantic? Hint: it starts with Domino High School.  
  
  
  
The halls are vast with thousands of lockers. And, I swear to Bob, there are so many students: thousands! I can't tell one from the other and most likely will never be able, too. I could barely sense that a few seemed very short, others; vice versa. Many, many, people learn in these halls. I'm starting to doubt if I will even be noticed. I many be a bit anti-social, but I still want others to be aware that I kind of exist. It would be nice.  
  
  
  
Okay, I have a mission self-appointed in my head. Hey, It's not like I'm walking around the school for absolutely no reason but to bump into people that actually KNOW where they're going. I'm looking for the Main Office. I don't even know what wing it's located in. I really think I'm lost. Knowing my oh-so-wonderful luck, I will end up in detention on the first damn day. I think all I can really do now is question my situation. Maybe this time, unlike many before, the answers will simply fall from the sky [or ceiling; I'll settle for the ceiling]:   
  
  
  
Why? Why must I attend a giant school in a part of the country I've NEVER been to? Why does said school have to be so, so, immense? Why can't I be permitted to join in the 'joy' of home school?  
  
  
  
Well, I don't see any answers be raiding me from the heavens at the moment. Nope, guess I'll just keep walking. Maybe I'll get to something that will help. Hell yeah, and when that happens I suppose those belated answers will come joyful to me on flying swine with a heavenly chorus on the inner-com.   
  
  
  
Yeah right…  
  
  
  
^^^^The chapter in Bakura's POV…ends^^^^  
  
  
  
Like always, I'm too lazy to put all this up.  
  
  
  
R+R Please!  
  



	3. chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yugioh.  
  
  
^^^^The chapter in Bakura's POV…begins^^^  
  
  
As I make my way to second period, I am seriously sinking into depression. I was found in my wandering by a dreaded jock Hall Monitor. It was this tall tough kid [most likely a football player monitoring for punishment] in a blue uniform and a bright, blinding orange sash. Dark navy and lightening orange; a sickening mix of color, believe me. If you haven't seen it, you don't want to see it; and when you do, it won't leave your mind for hours.   
  
Okay, naturally, when the guy found me he asked the require questions, "Where are you going?" and "Why the f- [censored] aren't you in class?" I was too captivated by his strange attire to answer and just blinked at him. I think this got him mad. [May I pause now to mention he was five times my size and all muscle?] Yeah, before I realized what was happening, he had me by the arm and was dragging me to I don't know where. He was muttering something about 'smart alecs' and 'stuck up snobs'. Knowing my luck once again, he was going to get some of his buddies out of first period to give me a serious working over. I hate it when people do that to me. This proved the fact, Hall Monitor or no; the guy was still only human. [Scratch the 'only'; he looked about three-fourths a gorilla, too.]  
  
I must be physic or something because he WAS getting his fellow chums out of class. But, by the grace of some divine intervention, someone stopped him before the lot could gather and gain up on me. I learned later that this was actually the principal. Bob, what a horrible thing to happen. Now the head of the friggen school knows who I am. Well, on the optimistic up side; at least I reached the office, finally.  
  
The lady behind the desk was very sappy. She sat on her fat rear [v_vU as if I was looking] trying to stare ME down. The key word in 'stare down' is, well, down. She seriously lacked the altitude needed to look higher than anything over a meter stick. I was thinking 'Lady, it wouldn't kill you to stand up for once. At least put THAT much effort into your pathetic job,' as she spent ten minutes trying to get the attention of some office aid to carry my schedule over from her to me. The woman was a good two feet away the whole time, but the aid was almost three meters.  
  
After finally getting my agenda [and missing all of first period in the process], I made my way, and still am, to second period. I approach the door. This class is History, which means I will most diffidently suck at it. I'm not good at all the memorizing and stuff. This doesn't mean I can't learn the info, I just can't remember it all by the time the tests are scheduled. I'm also bad at taking notes when teachers are lecturing.  
  
Did I mention my most hated subject is Egyptian History? Yeah, there's a big reason for that, see: there's this incredibly rude, something, living in a certain pendant [uh…Ring] that I own.   
  
More on that later.  
  
  
^^^^The Chapter in Bakura's POV…ends^^^^  
  



	4. chapter 4

^^^^The chapter in Bakura's POV…begins^^^  
  
  
  
I knock on the door, I mean, what else? There is no immediate answer, but the drowning monotone in the background stops. It starts again shortly in a command and I hear someone arising and heading towards the door, which by the way, is soon opened.  
  
This short boy with brown hair and really big brown irises is staring at me through the doorway. His eyes are on my hair in a very critical glaze. So what if my locks happen to be white, long, and um… rather messy? It's not like I'm unaware of the fact. Why do people look at me like they think I don't know this? I do. I don't CARE. I sure as hell don't need them to worry about it either. They always take it upon themselves to do so anyway. Annoying, really…  
  
"Well, who is it? Hurry up and come in. I don't have the authority to air condition the whole school you know," the boring voice sang out in its stressful monotone.  
  
I quickly rush in so as not to anger the man behind the teacher's desk. He wasn't very old for his deep boring drawl. But he also didn't look pleased with anything at the moment. Man, he had one deep furrow.  
  
So, when you walk into a new classroom, your instinct is to find the nearest empty desk and become invisible, right? No? Well, that's what I try to do anyway…  
  
I was led to the front of the classroom on my quest to find a place to sit. The brown haired door opener had already returned to his. I look at the teacher so he could point out a desk for my own use. He is looking at his absentees; trying to find my name most likely.  
  
"Are you Abby Grety?" he asked.  
  
I choked. I AM not a girl! Why do people try to think else whys?  
  
"No, no sir…I'm…my name's Bakura." I am stuttering in unfiltered shock.  
  
"Oh…" the man mutters looking down the list, "I see 'Ryou, Bakura'."  
  
He looks at my hair again and again before he turns to the students. Oh Bob, he's going to introduce me to the whole bloody class. I turn my face expressionless as I am forced to face my new second period.  
  
"Class, welcome your new classmate, Bakura," he says to the group all of which just nod their heads in unison and recite some rehearsed proper greeting phrases. I have decided I'll just tilt my head in acknowledgment of their salutations quietly with no feeling to match this emotionless hello.  
  
The teacher directs me to a seat. It's in the back, left side of the room, in the second row. I am situated between two freaks [there's this thing called a mirror I should see; I know]. The kid to the left has weirdly colored hair [point?]. See, his hair is black. His hair is red, too. There's even some yellow [uh, blonde] in the mix. One question, since it's obviously fake: Why? Guess it's to compensate for his hilarious high disadvantage.  
  
I know, being the long, messy, white mane creature I was made to exist as, I shouldn't be criticizing other folks hair, but really. I didn't choose my style to be so absurd like Rhino Boy to my right [oh yeah, I was just born with my long mulick…sure…let me tell you about it -_-U]. How could people do that to themselves? This insane child has spiked his normally brown hair into a straight point! Gods, beware the self-mutilation freaks!  
  
Behind me, praise be to Bob, there is no one but my soon to be closest friend, the wall. [Hey! Don't start raising your eyebrows at ME…] No joke; once those jocks get to finally snag me when no one's looking, the Wall and I will start becoming a lot better acquainted. It goes for the floor as well. "Hello pale white ground tiles with gray skid marks…" [How does a History classroom get skid streaks?]  
  
Now in front of me is the whole class. Right in the desk before me is, well, some very polite air. It doesn't talk to me, which is nice. It doesn't tap out annoying timeless symphonies with its broken pencil ends. It would never summon the little strength needed to successfully land a paper airplane into my apparently uncombed hair. Nor would it hack up a load of spit to wet a tiny piece of paper being shot through a straw at my pale forehead. Air is swell [Okay, I think we got it covered that the seat in front of me is entirely void of life; EMPTY].  
  
I'll listen to the teacher now. Fun… Know what we're learning? Egyptian History for the next five weeks.  
  
  
^^^^The Chapter in Bakura's POV…ends^^^^  
  



	5. chapter 5 new

^^^^The chapter in Bakura's POV…begins^^^  
  
  
  
Well, I can only pray this next period goes as smoothly as History.  
  
Okay, bad smell of something related to sulfur, tiny sonic booms, breaking glass, screams of pain, and a very high-pitched perky voice. Mon Dieu, it's Chemistry! Zeus, save me now! [Random praises to celestial deities, one is going to get through to that divine power someday, preferably before I'm insane….]  
  
The door is closed. How safe it looks. But, my experience warns me: The safer the outer sanctum, the more dangerous the interior. I can hear and smell the unpleasantness.  
  
An extremely rude child budges me out of the way with zero respect and opens the door. Okay, so I guess I was standing motionless for quite a while, I probably deserved it. That lot won't keep me from becoming quite ticked off.  
  
_// Mortal, feel my wrath! //_  
  
Oh no, not him again. I'm in the hazardous classroom now. I actually think I'll respond to the mental interruption.  
  
_/ Hi, remember me, I'm the other mind in your link. Now, before you cut me off, I have this great idea; how about that jerk feels you wrath next week, eh, Spirit? /_  
  
I'm holding my breath as I sit down. I wonder what I'll get for that? [Infirmary, infirmary, come one infirmary!]  
  
_// Oh, forgot you were there, Mortal. Shut up and let me take him out! //_  
  
I don't have a death wish, I assure you, but I feel like tempting fate.   
  
I'm going in.  
  
_/ Okay, when I die, I promise I will shut up, but at the moment; no. I happen to still be, oh my God, breathing right now, though! Golly geeze, guess you'll just have to wait. /   
_  
_// Watch your back, Fool! You better enjoy every f-[censored] second till break, because you'll be in traction for the rest of this week! //_  
  
Go ahead, cry for me; I won't stare. It's nice to know someone cares that much. Unless, that is, you were just laughing so hard…. [sounds of people "laughing so hard"] Awe, come on, that was just a terrible, terrible thing to do. [laughing to tears continues]  
  
I have one more class till lunch break. You'd understand if I was a little scared, right? I mean, I have a Spirit in my head! Ok man, I'm insane. I'm finally insane.  
  
I can see through my lack of manic cackles that being crazy is way overrated.  
  
  
  
^^^^The Chapter in Bakura's POV…ends^^^^  



End file.
